Sitting in a silent place.
Pondering my own mysteries.
Time slivers by,
without a sign of its passing.
And I am not being disturbed.
Then abruptly strikng me,
comes a memory
Happy, sweet, and loving,
comes a memory.
A memory before desruction.
Laying on manmade ground.
Tinkering with little things.
Pencils curving in unnatural ways.
Mirrors and illusions.
And then leaves a memory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i love the rhymes....its such a sweet piece